


The first date

by sherlylikeswaffles



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3711832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlylikeswaffles/pseuds/sherlylikeswaffles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Molly are together but they have never actually gone on a real date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Molly's phone vibrated on her kitchen counter.  
It was a text from Sherlock: 

John and Mary went on a date  
SH

Molly smiled and answered: 

You are bored? You want to come over?  
Molly

Good idea. I'll be there in 13 minutes.  
SH

13 minutes! Sherlock couldn't be home. It would take him 24 minutes from Baker Street. Molly used to take every second before Sherlock's arrival to clean up her flat because he didn't want him to jump to conclusions. But since they were offically together, Molly didn't bother. Sherlock liked her the way she was and so he also had to like her cat Toby, her pink bedroom or the way her hair clips lay spread all around the bathroom.  
So now, Molly boiled some water and was happy about the prospect of spending the evening with Sherlock.  
Exactly 13 minutes later the doorbell rang. Sherlock actually had a key himself. Molly had given it to him straight away. Not because she hoped he would move in with her, but because she knew he could pick her lock within seconds and she prefered that her boyfriend could legally enter her flat any time.  
She opened the door widely, welcoming Sherlock in.  
“Good evening, Molly,” Sherlock kissed her on the cheek and stepped inside the flat.  
“So John and Mary are on a date and they didn't let you come along?”Molly asked. She wondered why he didn't take off his coat.  
“A date, as John once explained to me, is when two people who like each other go out and have fun. Just the other day he stressed the “two people” part again. So no, they didn't let me come along but actually I didn't want to. Molly, I was thinking...thinking about us. And I realised we never really went on a date together.”  
“What do you mean? We did a lot together. You remember that one time we visited this guy, who loved trains, or the night we planned the stag night? That was fun,” Molly said, unsure where this was leading.  
“Well, yes, but you can't call those dates...we solved crimes and did science. We spent most of our time together in St. Barth's lab,” Sherlock paused. He looked around nervously. “Molly, would you like to go on a date with me?”  
“What? When?” Molly asked, taken aback.  
“Molly, would you like to go on a date with me tonight? We could go to this little Italian restaurant around the corner or ...somewhere else. You can decide.”  
Sherlock looked at her expectantly.  
“Tonight? You mean now?”  
“Yes, or is it inconvinient? We could go out some other time.”  
“No, no, no...I wanted to say...sorry,” Sherlock's face fell. Molly rambled, “I mean, I'd love to go on a “real” date with you. The Italian restaurant would be great. I'm just...you know...not prepared. Usually you get asked out a few days before the actually date so you have time to mentally prepare yourself for it and decide what to wear and so on.”  
Sherlock considered this. “I think you look good right now and you don't need to change to go out.”  
“Okay, well, then, just give me five minutes to get ready and we'll go.”  
“Thank you, Molly.”  
“There is no need to thank me...you are the one taking me out after all,” Molly blushed slightly and Sherlock's face lit up.  
Exactly four minutes later Molly had changed and refreshed her lipstick. Sherlock had said it wasn't necessary for him, but you don't go on a date every day and Molly wanted to take the oportunity to wear her new dress. It was dark red and had a wide, swinging skirt.  
“Oh, I get what you mean with dressing up for the occasion. You look beautiful,” Sherlock said, “I feel underdressed.”  
Molly laughed.  
“What?” he wanted to know, irritated.  
“You wear a suit. Like always. At least when you leave your flat, so you look good enough for the date. And stop making such a huge deal out of it. It's just a date.”  
“It's our first date,” Sherlock reminded her.  
“Our first real date,” she corrected him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always this took me far too long to finish and I'm sorry. Special thanks to my friend Pocket Pavel for beta-reading. It would be awesome if you left a comment. Enjoy!

The little Italian restaurant around the corner was just the right place for a first date, Molly thought as they sat down. Sherlock had taken her coat when they had entered and hung it up alongside his.   
“Whate do you like to drinke?” the waiter asked them with a strong Italian accent.   
Sherlock looked at her questioningly.   
“Red wine?” she said.   
“Un mezzo litro del vino rosso della casa e un litro di acqua minerale gassata, per favore,” Sherlock said in accent-free Italian. The waiter nodded and left.   
“You speak Italian? Why does this not surprise me?”  
“Once you learned Latin, all Roman languages are pretty easy to learn,” Sherlock explained.   
“Oh, let me guess, besides Latin, French and Italian, you are fluent in Spanish, too?”  
Sherlock smiled.   
“You are a genius,” Molly said, laughing, “And I felt good when I got a B in my French class.”  
“Oh please, Molly, I mainly learned this many languages to piss Mycroft off. Your straight A in your final chemistry exam is a far more honourable accomplishment.”  
“How...?” Molly started.   
“Allora, il vino e l'acqua,” the waiter had brought their drinks. “E per mangiare?”  
“What do you want to eat?”  
“I'm...sorry I forgot to look at the menu...we were talking,” Molly said, blushing slightly.   
“Non c'è problema. I'll come back later,” the waiter left again.   
“The lasagne is excellent,” Sherlock had opened his menu and looked at it with some interest.   
“Sherlock, don't get off topic,” Molly replied, “How did you know about my chemistry results in my A levels?”  
“I don't think this is the way a first date conversation should go,” Sherlock answered and averted his eyes.   
“No, maybe not, but usually you tell things like this on your first date. But you know them already. Sherlock, how?” Molly kept her voice low, but it was obvious that she was agitated. She wasn't really angry that he knew. Her accomplishments in chemistry really weren't that much of a secret and something she was actually proud of. But what really frustrated her was that Sherlock didn't tell her how he knew this piece of information about her. She was absolutely positive that she had never told him that.  
“When I first met you...”Sherlock said slowly and then stopped. Molly urged him to go on.  
“When I first met you, I was curious about you. You seemed far too skilled to work in a morgue. Not that I don't think that being a pathologist is one of the world's most fascinating jobs, but it didn't seem like the job someone wanted to do, more like they somehow ended up there. So when I left the morgue that day, I did my research and typed your name into google. You were first in your class in chemistry. You won a prize. That left an impression on me.”  
“Oh,” Molly said. Not a very intelligent response. “You know,” she said eventually, “you searching for me on the Internet, would have actually been pretty cute if it weren't for your stalking tendencies.”  
“What do you mean?” Sherlock seemed relaxed now that he knew Molly wasn't angry with him.   
“You did your research because you wanted to know more about me and not because you were romantically interested in me,” she stated.  
“That's true,” Sherlock admitted, “But a google search is not really stalking.”  
Molly smiled at him then and leaned forward: “Is there something else you know about me but you didn't tell me you knew?”  
Sherlock was about to answer when waiter returned: “Do you know what you'd like to order, Signora?”  
“Ehm, yes,” Molly said, although she had barely given the menu a glance. Talking to Sherlock was far more interesting. “I'd like to have the lasagne, please.”  
“Vorrei lo stesso, per favore,” said Sherlock. The waiter left again.   
When the waiter had appeared, Sherlock and Molly had sat up straight again but now Sherlock was the one leaning closer towards Molly.   
“I don't know if this counts, but I know that you manage to surprise me. I never feel like I have made enough deductions about you to know all the small things about you. But I deduce something about you everyday...how your smile makes my pulse race, how kissing you leaves me breathless and how looking into your wonderful eyes make me wonder how on earth I have deserved you.”  
Molly stared at him. Then she coughed a little, she had forgotten to breathe. Out of all the things she had expected him to say, this had never crossed her mind. She knew that Sherlock loved her and wanted to be with her but usually he was rather awkward about it. He wasn't the kind of boyfriend that came home with flowers and left lover letters on the pillow when he left. But when Molly had let him into her heart she had known about this.   
“Sherlock, I...” she rambled. Why did she always ramble when it was important?  
“I don't know what to say...I can just say that I feel the same way. Not maybe the deduction part, but you really have changed. A year ago I would have never expected that you were capable of saying such nice things. You make me fall in love with you all over again, every single day,” she concluded. Sherlock's bright eyes looked at her with such intensity, she couldn't help but look back into them.   
Once again the arrival of the waiter and their food broke them apart, but somehow after this, their mood had changed. The air of “first date awkwardness” had left completely and they chatted comfortably about the body they had examined together just this morning.   
“I'm sorry, Sherlock. I have to go to the toilet,” Molly said, unwilling to end their conversation.  
“Okay, I'll pay the bill while you're gone.”  
“Sherlock,” Molly said, grinning, “can I ask you something?”  
“Sure.”  
“Did you read a book about this? Or looked it up on the Internet?”  
“What?”  
“The idea that you could take me on a date, you pay for dinner, your love confession...it makes me wonder if you read a “How to be a perfect boyfriend” guide?”  
“Do you think I am a perfect boyfriend?” he asked. The smile he gave her told her that he had actually looked it up. Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, graduate chemist, speaker of uncountable languages and maybe soon to be perfect boyfriend.  
“Well, if such a guide exists, it actually gives some pretty good advice,” Molly replied.  
When she returned from the restrooms, Sherlock waited with her coat at the door. They stepped outside.   
“You know this is the part of the first date where I tell you that I had a great evening and that I would like to go out again,” Molly told him.   
“How about tomorrow? For lunch?” Sherlock asked.  
“That would be great,” she replied, taking his hand.   
“And you know this would be the part of the first date where I would kiss you goodbye, but...”  
“I could also invite you over?”  
Sherlock nodded.   
“Why can't we have both,” Molly whispered, as she reached up to kiss him, lightly on the lips and when they broke apart she pulled him with her. Laughing, they ran to her flat.


End file.
